The Man Who Can't Be Moved
by MadeFromScratch
Summary: Zayn helps Harry move on from Louis.


Harry was a very stubborn boy. He was also still in love.

He loved Lous with all his heart. But...Louis had moved on. Louis had gotten a new boy, Niall. A small, Irish blonde bundle of humor and laughs and great love-making. Because that's all that ever mattered to Louis; you give good sex, you stay.

It wasn't always like that. The pair were cuddlers. Larry Stylinson was infamous for cuddling and making cute little heart eyes at each other.

Then, Harry had his first with Louis. And it all went downhill from there.

Louis craved sex. Especially Harry's, because Harry's put him over the edge. Hell, it threw him over the edge and bodychecked him into the lake of pure pleasure.

But Harry wasn't after that. He just wanted to kiss, to cuddle, to watch movies, and to just touch Louis.

But Louis's cravings got in the way of their love. He began to get moody when Harry wouldn't just fuck him on the bed, because that seemed perfectly fine to Louis, so why didn't Harry want to?

Did he not love him? Did he not care?

Harry loved Louis, but he left him. Harry hated waking up sore and sticky, with Louis's body pressed up against his.

Harry wanted to just snuggle under the covers for one night, but no. Louis. Wanted. Sex.

Harry left.

He tried to move on. He really did. But nothing worked. Sleeping around never worked. Clubbing never worked.

Harry became a shell. He stopped thinking. One day, he woke up with a plan. 'I need Louis. So I'm gonna get Louis.'

Harry picked up his sleeping bag, a couple recent photos of Louis, a cardboard sign, and a Sharpie.

He dragged himself to the corner where he met Louis at a stoplight, when Louis dropped his coffee on him.

He wanted to clean it up, but Harry insisted it wasn't necessary. Louis followed tye poor boy home, and helped him wash his shirt. After that, Louis came by every day. The rest is history.

Harry smiled at the sweet memory. He suddenly stumbled into someone. "Watch it!" they hissed. "Sorry," he mumbled. 'I mustn't get caught up with Louis.'

Harry laid his sleeping bag out next to the corner, on a small oak bench next to the sidewalk. He leaned up against it, and smiled.

He sat, talking to people who sat down, and he remembered a Script song that had him doing this.

'Goin' back to the corner where I first saw you.

Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move.'

Harry thought maybe Louis would come back.

'Because if one day you wake up and find that you're missin' me, and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be.

'Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet. And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street.'

Two months have passed.

News reporters have come to the corner, asking about this Louis Tomlinson that Harry is trying to find.

He's been all over the news. 'The Man Who Can't Be Moved' was his new screen name. Harry believed this new publicity would bring Louis back to him.

No luck.

People have tried to give him money. 'They don't understand.' He's not homeless, 'I'm just a brokenhearted man.' Harry sits down one day, fed up.

"Maybe I should just go home."

"You should."

Harry whipped his head up so fast, it should've spun off his shoulders. "Huh?" he asked as he looked up into the boy's eyes. It should have been illegal for that boy to speak or make eye contact.

"If you have a home, why aren't you there?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. Harry shrugged. "I'm waiting for him," he said simply, holding up Louis's picture. The boy nodded. "I'm Zayn, by the way," he said as he sat down.

Harry smirked at the ground a little, his dimples slightly coming out. Louis loved to poke his dimples. "You've been kissed by an angel, Hazz," he would say before pecking him on the nose cutely. And Harry would wriggle, giggling and they would both quickly ensue in a tickle fight.

The days.

"What's your name?" "Harry." "Harry...I don't know how to say this, but...I think the boy you're looking for has moved on." Harry looked up at him.

"No, he can't have. Niall wouldn't have pleased him for that long. He said I would be his only long-term relationship. We'd be together forever." Harry felt Zayn's hand rub his shoulder.

"Harry...he's not coming back. You know why?" "Why?" "Because I tried to do exactly what you're doing." Harry looked up in surprise. "That was you?"

Harry remembered seeing a tall tan boy, asking for a small blonde boy he used to know.

Harry was with Louis at the time, who tugged him along, tutting under his breath about how people like that need to let go.

Harry smiled up at Zayn. "So your ex is with my ex." Zayn shook his head, smiling. "What a funny world God made for us," he whispered.

Zayn clapped Harry on the back. "Well, I suppose we should go back to your flat," he said, hoisting Harry up.

It was nighttime now. The clubs were all open, but Zayn never wavered from his destination.

Harry liked Zayn, deep down.

He didn't say it, but he knew he radiated it. If could be any more obvious, he'd be crystal.

But for some reason, he could tell that Zayn liked him back. The way he talked; it was just amazingly smooth with Harry.

Harry dropped his things in the hall and breathed in the smell of home. Two months of neglect had taken their toll on the place. Dust was everywhere.

Not parasites, thank goodness, but there was dust coating everything. Just a thin layer. The two months of dirty laundry upstairs stank, and the bathroom was a mess.

Harry sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Operation Clean-Up, I suppose," Zayn said, wrapping an arm around Harry.

Harry flinched, but relaxed into Zayn grip because it felt so right. Zayn and him cleaned the house that day.

Harry remembered walking to a small Starbucks with Zayn. Watching the beauty's perfect jawline move as he ordered; watching his eyes look down at the coffee he had, swirling the milk and sugar in it so that it was well mixed. They were walking home, Harry admiring Zayn still when Zayn spoke so suddenly that Harry jumped.

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer."

Harry blushed and looked away. Zayn then turned him back. "Your dimples come out when you blush, yanno," he commented. "Like a kiss from an angel."

Harry froze. "Someone else told me that too. Someone who really cared about me." Zayn blinked as Harry went on. "So..."

"Do you care about me?"

Zayn didn't know what to say. So he didn't. He just smashed his lips to Harry's. Harry was shocked. He...this was too fast. It wasn't right. But why did it feel so good?

Harry tilted his head, gaining more access to Zayn's mouth. Zayn grabbed Harry's curls, slightly squeezing their bases as he brought them closer. Harry wound his hands around Zayn's waist, bringing him so close that their bodies banged together.

"H-H...Harry?"

Harry froze. He knew that voice. He turned around and saw the one who had dissed him. The one who had used him.

The one who was the whore in the relationship. The one who was currently holding hands with some blonde twat.

Louis.

Harry hissed, drawing Zayn closer to him. "What do you want, you little whore," he spat. Harry knew he should be begging for Louis to take him back right now.

But Harry didn't want Louis. He wanted Zayn. Louis's blue eyes welled up in tears. "You...you moved on quickly..." he whispered, more directed to the pavement rather than Harry himself.

Harry snarled, stepping away from Zayn and walking straight up to Louis. "No. You ditched me for some blonde twat! I left because you wanted sex, and that was it. You used me. Louis, you have to realize that I have gone on." Louis opened his mouth to say something, but Harry was on a roll.

"I waited for you. I went out on the street, at the corner where you dumped coffee on me by accident two years ago. I had your picture, asking people if they knew you. No one did. I thought that if I became famous, you would come back to me. But you didn't. You stayed with Niall."

"And you know what? I used to be a very stubborn man. A man who wouldn't waver from his destination. A man who can't be moved. Well, thanks to Zayn, I have. I have finally moved on."

"Louis, you need to realize that you can't keep using Niall to make me jealous. Don't forget, Niall is Zayn's ex as well. Louis, just go home."

And with that, Harry turned and took Zayn's hand in his own and walked off.

Harry didn't turn around, not once to see Louis's face. He should've been feeling remorse, sympathy even. Not right then. He felt bliss, freedom. He was free from Louis's grasp, from Louis's memory, from Louis.

Zayn looked up at Harry. "Hey, you okay? You sure you don't wanna go back?" Harry looked at Zayn, cupping his face. "No. Louis...I don't love him anymore. I've finally moved on. And you helped me. Thank you." And with that, Harry leans into Zayn's face, lightly pressing his lips to Zayn's.

"So, some men can be moved," Zayn mumbles against Harry's lips.

Harry just cheekily grins.


End file.
